


deal with the devil

by neverwritingagain



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Might be a little weird, it's basically a shoot reunion, root is dead but she also isn't
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 12:19:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13481343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverwritingagain/pseuds/neverwritingagain
Summary: Root just wants to see her girl one more time, so she makes a deal with Satan (literally)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know what the actual hell this is, and I'm so sorry for everyone reading this and thinking "what the fuck". 
> 
> I was thinking about Root and the way she sees The Machine like it was some kind of God, so I asked myself what would happen if our beloved hacker met Satan.  
> Yeah, my usual thoughts. 
> 
> Also, Root and Shaw reunite after the events of the finale, which is always something nice to read.

"So, they've been telling me you're the one behind the sudden mayhem in my land. Care to explain?" 

"I needed to see you" 

"I've been doing what I do since before the concept of humanity was even a thing, and very few insane souls were enough desperate to come and knock at my door. It's not unusual for my guests to forget what's safe and what could get them hurt, but you, you deliberately asked to be brought here" 

"We need to talk" 

"I don't think I need to do anything"

"I want you to listen to me" 

"What makes you think I could ever care about whatever you want to tell me? Your eyes look mighty and your stance is the one of a fighter. Those are qualities I admire, but you're just a single drop of water in my personal ocean of despair and affliction" 

"I want to make a deal with you" 

"A deal? You know what they say about making deals with the devil?" 

"It won't be a problem. Are you in?" 

"May I ask, what were you called before your idiotic human antics got you straight to my land?" 

"Root" 

 

-

 

Shaw's taste in interior design hasn't really changed after her multiple almost death experiences in the desperate attempt to save the world. 

That doesn't mean though, that she isn't uncharacteristically satisfied with her secondhand couch. 

Dark blue leather, a poignant smell that reminds her of her times in medical school and a gap between the cushions which perfectly fits Bear's snout. 

Satisfaction, Shaw found out during her teenage years, is not at all difficult to recognise. 

Of course, anger and hunger were always the easiest, most primal kind of emotions to feel, but through the years it came down on her that satisfaction was gingerly sitting on a higher step of her rather deserted feelings chart. 

Shaw's thoughts are pragmatic, logical, she has been at first praised and then rejected for being the objective woman she is. 

Her objectivity tells her that satisfaction more often than not is a direct consequence of shooting people, a big sized dessert or sex. 

Another part of her, the one that either sleeps or grunts at people's idiocy, reminds her of another point on the limited list of things that manage to satisfy Sameen Shaw. 

Revenge. 

The sudden thought has her closing her eyes for a minute, while her palm stills between Bear's pointy ears.

For a moment, back with her finger on the trigger and her eyes fixed on a falling body, revenge had felt almost sweet. 

It didn't took long for her to be reminded of the events that led to her seeking revenge. 

And somehow, the sweetness left in the blink of an eye, leaving enough space for the bitter taste of loss. 

Bear whines a little. 

He enjoys being pet, he's a dog after all.  
A four legged mammal who has been Shaw's only company for the past months.

There was a time when comparing herself to an animal used to be part of her instinct.

It was easier like that, she couldn't really feel things like other people, but she could find solace when she managed to satiate her needs. 

After the past few years though, can she really go back to that? 

After understanding the dynamics of being part of a team? After sacrificing herself for said team? After getting close, too close, to what felt a lot like affection for someone? 

Thinking too much doesn't suit her. 

Shaw has always preferred action, the distinct shift of adrenaline in her body. 

Right now, she doesn't have much of a choice. She can't really wish for dozens of bad guys dressed in black bursting into her poor excuse for an apartment. 

So she does the next best thing that involves moving her action-deprived hand. 

And taps Bear on the nose.

 

-

 

"Could you enlighten me and give me a single good reason why I should even consider agreeing to this?" 

"How do you feel about insurgent subjects?" 

"You're just so sure of yourself, aren't you? Most of these people have been here for entire centuries, and you're arrogant enough to believe you could play prophet and make them hate me more than they already do?" 

"There's a reason why I'm down here" 

"As I said, terribly arrogant" 

"I could easily have all them wrapped around my finger. You're not exactly loved and furious souls are the best kind of fuel for an insurrection. Haven't heard about the French revolution? Let's just say their king came out of it without a head"

"Is this you threatening me?"

"This is me asking you for a favor"

"A favor? Do you realise who I am?"

"It's not like I'm asking you to install air conditioning or anything like that"

"You're asking me to do something I've never done before"

"There's a first time for everything. Even for you" 

"I don't like being played"

"I won't"

"You have twenty-four hours" 

 

-

 

Shaw is the best at being annoyed.  
It comes easy to her and it always will.

Although, there's something bittersweet about being annoyed by yourself.  
Especially when you seem unable to fall asleep.

In moments like this, Shaw seeks memories from months ago, before the end credits of the best part of her life.  
Back then, there were weeks when she wouldn't sleep for two days straight. She remembers vividly getting back to her apartment, or the subway, or the first horizontal surface she could find and fall face first onto it, falling asleep without even taking off her blood stained clothes first. 

There's something so utterly satisfying about finally being able to sleep when you're really, excruciatingly tired. 

But right now she isn't. 

Once again her fists crave action, her mind craves something hard and exhausting and methodical to work on, and her soul craves... 

Her soul, that same sleepy part of her, for once is awake. 

Much like her body. 

And her soul craves something she doesn't want to think about. 

Because Sameen is pragmatic and objective.

And dead people are dead, simple as that. 

So Shaw doesn't listen to her soul crying for a body next to hers. She puts an end to her stream of nonsense thoughts by laying a heavy hand in the vacant space on her left. She fists the sheets a little roughly, the silky texture reminding her of brunette waves and a long body. 

A long body that took up so much unnecessary space. 

A long body that was annoyingly seductive.

Again, non rational thoughts.  
Not good.  
Not good at all.

Shaw looks up at the ceiling. 

She's been staring at it so much these past weeks, that she managed to noticed a couple spots missed by the painters.

Maybe she could let off some steam by giving those last touches herself. 

She almost became a doctor, how hard could it be to paint a ceiling? 

 

-

 

"I'm taking my body" 

"Like hell you do" 

"You did not just say that" 

"What do you think? It gets boring, all day by myself" 

"Whatever. I'm still taking my body" 

"No, you're not"

"What do you expect me to do? Go up there in ghost form? What is this, A Christmas Carol?" 

"You're so annoying. I don't blame whoever sent you here" 

"I'm flattered. Now give me my body" 

"I hope it's clear enough that I'm doing this just because I want to go back to torturing people" 

"Been there, done that. Now do your thing" 

"Get the hell out of here" 

"Now, you're getting repetitive" 

 

-

 

Bear does nothing all day, and still there he is, dozing off on the couch. 

Shaw leans on the door frame, sipping the last few drops of her coffee. 

Yeah, coffee at four in the morning didn't sound like the best idea at first, but think about it. If she manages to stay awake till the next morning, maybe tomorrow night she'll actually be able to fall asleep. 

When did dragging herself around till exhaustion become the answer to her problems? 

Sometimes between saving the world and looking for an apartment that allows animals.

Because Reese is dead and Finch left the country. 

So the dog sticks with her. And what do you do when you've got someone to look after? You protect them. 

And that's what Shaw did. A relatively small apartment with a landlord who allows dogs, cats, weird birds like the one next door and maybe even iguanas. 

Ok, maybe coffee really was a bad idea.

She's having a monologue and that's the least Shaw thing ever. 

Right now the best momentary solution seems to put her head under the faucet in the tiny bathroom. The cold water almost burns her face and that's exactly what she needs. 

A reminder that she can still feel something.

At some point during her brief trip to the bathroom, Bear started barking. 

Like really obnoxiously loud. 

And Shaw really doesn't want to get him and tell him to shut up, because he's a dog and dogs don't objectively understand that they're being loud and annoying the whole damn neighbourhood. 

But again, Sameen somehow became a dog owner, and sometimes dog owners need to do that too. 

Turning the corner, her foggy mind seems to notice there's something missing. 

Yeah, like a reason why Bear is barking furiously.

The moment she steps into the living room and her gaze collides with someone's back, her hand instinctively goes to her hip, looking for a gun that's currently on her nightstand.

That's when Shaw notices two really important things.

Bear stopped being loud as heck and instead he's wagging his tail like crazy. 

The figure in front of her has a black leather jacket and the second they turn around Shaw sees the past two years of her life flashing before her eyes. 

The flapping noise of the dog's tail hitting the carpeted floor works amazingly as background music while Sameen Shaw looks in front of her and stares straight into Root's eyes. 

Root, who she believed dead. 

Root, whose dead body was recognised by Fusco. 

Root, who right now is standing in the middle of Shaw's apartment with an excited Bear nosing at her legs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two.   
> No Satan in this one, just the ladies.   
> Don't worry though, he'll be back.

Sameen looks like she has seen a ghost, and thinking about it, that's not so farfetched. 

Root tries her best not to be intimidating and gives Shaw a classic head tilt. 

"Sameen-"

Half a second later, when Shaw grabs her roughly by the lapels of her jacket, she remembers who the woman in front of her really is. 

Someone who doesn't get intimidated by pretty much anything. 

Not even the inexplicable appearance of presumably dead people in the middle of the night, apparently. 

Root had wanted to hug her, to be able to feel as much of Shaw's body pressing into hers but somehow, when hungry lips collide with hers, she doesn't really mind the change of plans.

It doesn't last as long as she wishes though, because Sameen is pulling away after a while, a sudden fury painted on her features and a burning question. 

"How are you here?" 

She still hasn't let go of her jacket, and Root feels like this is too easy. It almost feels like falling back into their old routine. 

She quickly spares a glance outside the window, a slight smirk forming on her lips. 

When she looks back into Shaw's eyes the fury is still there, the scowl she missed so much looks somehow both softer and desperate. 

Desperate for answers, desperate for some action. 

Root can almost see the bottled up energy radiating from Sameen. She decides not to make her wait too long. 

"I made a deal with Satan, easy as that" 

She's waiting for Shaw to roll her eyes, or snort at her, or once and for all push her outside the door and leave her at her doorstep. 

But Sameen just looks into her eyes with newfound intensity, silently looking for the truth behind Root's words. 

She must find what she's looking for, because a moment later Root feels herself being dragged towards what she suspects being the bedroom. 

She complies eagerly, an enthusiasm she hasn't felt in a while boiling inside her veins. 

Bear doesn't complain when the bedroom door slams too close to his muzzle, he just curls up there, his back against the door and his tail still furiously wagging right and left. 

 

-

 

Shaw realises she quite enjoys the unusual mix of exhaustion and satisfaction that's still keeping her awake a couple hours later. 

That said, she's also pretty envious, because she hasn't had a good night of sleep in months and the one thing she has to thank for her sudden burst of strength is that single cup of coffee she had earlier, while Root, wherever she came from, looks like she could go on for hours and hours without a break to catch her breath. 

Sometime around dawn, Root got distracted by the sunlight getting through the window behind them and Shaw took her chance to slow things down and rest for a bit. 

She finds herself being enamoured with some specific details of Root's body. 

She could easily blame that on her past as an almost doctor, her singular passion for the human body and anatomy, but this time she doesn't want to.

Because she has been staring at the curves of Root's hips for a few minutes and she doesn't feel like stopping.

Because she can feel those long legs pressing against hers and finally, for the first time in months, this big bed she got has an actual purpose. 

Root's hand has been moving softly across her back for a while now, stopping after a series of circles to gently brush through her hair, then resuming.

The taller woman managed to get rid of Shaw's hair tie in the blink of an eye, an insatiable urge to finally set the long dark hair free. 

"Your ceiling looks like a dalmatian" 

Root laughs after that, a light bubbly laugh that manages to get a small grin out of Shaw. 

"They did a shit job. I was gonna fix it myself " 

"I'm trying really hard not to picture you standing on a ladder covered in paint" 

Shaw lightly shoves her at that. 

Root just smiles wider. 

"Shut up" 

There's a sudden shift of air after that, the playful mood swept aside even before Root speaks. 

"John?" 

Shaw turns her head to her left, looks for Root's eyes. 

They stare at each other for a while. 

Sameen takes in Root's features, her nose and ears, her lips and big brown eyes.

She can't help but think about how she must look in comparison, dark circles under her eyes and probably paler that usual. 

Root has always been pale, but like a good pale, the kind of shade of white you'll find on women in Italian paintings from the renaissance.

Shaw shakes her head slowly, trying to convey in the simple movement all the importance of Reese's gesture. 

She thinks back at one of the last times she has seen John, the way he delivered the news of Root's death to her in the same exact way. 

Root's eyes lose the usual glint for a second, she blinks, breathes in and once again looks at Shaw expectantly. 

"Harry?"

That's easier, less heavy, less filled with an emotion Shaw can't really cope with. 

She suspects Root isn't the best at mourning either. 

"Europe. He's happy" 

Root nods to herself, like she was expecting that answer. 

"So it's just you and the dog now" 

It's not a question, but it doesn't really sound like a statement either. 

Shaw does something that once would have been way out of her comfort zone and presses her palm to Root's hip.

Silently asking her to stay. 

There's a small, sad smile playing on Root's lips, then she's up and out of the bed, staring at Shaw in all her glorious nakedness. 

A moment later a shirt is thrown to her face. 

She's too out if it to react like she should, with a growl and a murderous glance. 

Root's voice is as overly sweet as usual when she speaks again. 

"Come on, you need to eat and i haven't felt actual sunlight on my skin in so long" 

Shaw is absolutely exhausted, but then again she's also starving. And Bear needs to get out for a walk at least once a day. 

He seems to be reading her mind as he whines from the other side of the door. 

 

-

 

"Where is the leash, sweetie?"

"On the counter" 

"It's not there"

"On the back of the couch, then"

"Nope"

"Try behind the door?" 

"Got it. You coming?"

"I can't find my damn bra" 

"I doubt it can be anywhere other than the bedroom" 

"I don't see it" 

"Have you looked under the bed, Sameen?" 

"How did you know?"

"A healthy sleeping schedule does that to you" 

 

-

 

A couple steps out of the apartment building and the sunny day doesn't even feel real to Root. 

Nothing really changed since her unplanned departure, New York City still looks as vibrant and frenetic as she remembers. 

Sometime between locking the door and getting into the elevator, Sameen's worn out expression left its place to a more relaxed one. 

As relaxed as Shaw can ever be, of course. 

The smaller woman and Bear look like they were created with the only purpose to stroll around the city together, their paces perfectly in sync and an ability to dodge pedestrians that comes way too easy.

Root, on the other hand, feels a lot less graceful. 

She never really liked being around big crowds, or people in general by that matter, but she keeps up with her companions nonetheless, a lazy smile playing on her lips and the sun caressing her features in a truly enjoyable way. 

She never really cared too much for the weather before her death.

There isn't enough time to count snowflakes or bask in the afternoon sun when all you're focusing on is saving humanity and try to get killed as later as possible. 

Right now, she realises, she can actually do that. 

She also has around fifteen hours left before whatever mystical force brought her back makes an appearance again, brandishing a one-way ticket in front of her eyes. 

Around the time Shaw let out her third breathy sound, Root had already made up her mind. 

There was no way Sameen would have been here with that neutral expression on her face, had she known Root has limited time.

They have limited time. 

The two of them and this new kind of normalcy that Root both craves and is insanely scared of. 

So no, Shaw doesn't need to know about that.

For now, at least.

For now, Root turns to face her with a genuine smile. 

Her signature coping mechanism.

And for once, the true reflection of this weird peacefulness she can feel for the first time in years. 

Her current situation is a huge, bright paradox.

The moment she can finally grasp what tastes a lot like happiness, she's doing it while trapped in a twenty-four hour limbo. 

Shaw's response to Root's smile is a delightful roll of her eyes. 

And then a quieter smile, still very real and much, much appreciated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, turns out I was lying and there's a third and final part on its way. Sometime really soon.


End file.
